


Four Times Nick Took Care of Harry

by sunniskies



Series: Four Times [2]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: ALL THE GRYLES FLUFF, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Harry-centric, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, That's it, harry being an adorable adorable thing, nick not falling for it but totally falling for it, slightly excessive pet names?, this is literally just nick taking care of harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:33:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunniskies/pseuds/sunniskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick’s not a protective person. He cares about people, sure, but he doesn’t get jealous over them. He’s Nick Grimshaw, he’s cool and effortless and generally doesn’t give a fuck about most things. Hell, his last relationship had been an open one. The whole you’re-my-boyfriend-and-no-one-else’s thing is pretty much antithetical to his entire stance on life.  </p><p>But then Harry happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Nick Took Care of Harry

Nick’s not a protective person. He cares about people, sure, but he doesn’t get jealous over them. He’s Nick Grimshaw, he’s cool and effortless and generally doesn’t give a fuck about most things. Hell, his last relationship had been an open one. The whole you’re-my-boyfriend-and-no-one-else’s thing is pretty much antithetical to his entire stance on life.

And he told Harry as much, when they decided to actually start dating and not just falling into bed together and jerking each other off when they’re both too drunk and hazy to properly talk about it. Sure, maybe he agreed to not see other people, but he definitely wasn’t going to change the way he does (or _doesn’t_ do) relationships. Not even a lanky twenty year old with bright eyes and curls that are sometimes auburn, sometimes tawny, could change that.

 

+++

 

1.

It’s a rare sunny day in London and they’re strolling casually through a street lined with small pubs and boutiques. Harry’s got a couple of bags swinging off his arms, new t-shirts he’d bought at some vintage shop, and it’s nice the way that they have the whole Sunday stretching out lazily before them to do whatever they like with. Their shoulders bump occasionally as they walk and Harry’s telling some story about Niall and the pub they went to last night. Something involving tequila shots and Niall ending up shirtless and covered in chips, but Nick’s too distracted by the way that the sunlight’s filtering through Harry’s tousled hair to pay absolute attention.

“Are you even listening?” Harry demands, rounding in front of Nick and shoving an accusatory finger into his chest with narrowed eyes.

“‘Course I am,” Nick rolls his eyes. “You’re never having a cosmo again.”

“I don’t drink cosmos,” Harry huffs, but starts walking again, bumping his hip up against Nick’s.

“Definitely not true popstar. I remember ordering you one just last week at that pub off of High Street. _I just want something fun_ , remember?”

“Well I didn’t ask for it.”

“The day you stop liking fruity drinks with little umbrellas is the day the world collapses.”

“You’re insufferable,” Harry pouts, but does a terrible job of suppressing a wide, dimpling grin.

“Indeed,” Nick agrees, and ruffles the back of Harry’s head for good measure. He pretends not to notice the way Harry leans into the touch, like he’s a cat being petted. _Honestly._

Harry tips his face up to the sun, closing his eyes. “I just love days like this don’t you?” he sighs, but before Nick can respond Harry somehow manages to trip massively over a crack in the pavement. It should be comical, how wide his eyes fly open, arms windmilling madly and pitching forward toward an imminent faceplant on the sidewalk, but it more just has the effect of causing Nick’s heart to stutter and he instinctively grabs Harry around the waist firmly.

“Jesus, alright?” he asks, once Harry’s no longer in danger of breaking his nose on the pavement, smoothing Harry’s t-shirt down over his torso and running his eyes over his face.

“Fine,” Harry waves a hand carelessly, although Nick doesn’t miss the pink tinge in his cheeks. “You know I’m a klutz.”

“Yeah I learned that a while ago babe,” Nick shakes his head. “Just try to not kill yourself on my watch, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry laughs, and picks up the bags that he had dropped. “Fancy getting lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, and they take off again. And before Nick realizes exactly what he’s doing, he finds himself threading his fingers through Harry’s. Harry doesn’t say anything but his mouth twitches at the corners and Nick ignores it. He just likes having a bit of a hold on Harry is all. The kid needs it obviously.

 

+++

 

2.

“Hullo?” Nick groans, rubbing at his eyes. His bedroom’s completely dark, he can’t even remembering picking up his phone but now he’s got it pressed up against his ear and it definitely can’t be much later than 4 am.

“Nick?” comes a voice, and it’s too quiet, too restrained.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Nick starts, already pulling himself up and flipping the table light on. It’s like he just took three espresso shots, how awake he suddenly is. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Harry mumbles and just lets silence hang on the other end of the line. Harry does this, Nick’s learned after years of knowing him, when it’s a little too hard for him to find the words and he needs someone to pull them out of him instead.

As much as Nick suddenly wishes Harry wasn’t in California, that he could just look him up in down and make sure that he’s not lost an arm or something, he knows not to demand Harry. It’s never been what he needs.

“Love,” he says instead, voice softening. “Hazza, what’s happened?”

“I’m alright,” Harry repeats but his voice wavers and it’s not hard to hear his throat closing up thickly.

“Darling,” Nick murmurs, pressing his phone tighter against his ear, a very real, physical ache rising in his chest. “Please tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Harry exhales shakily and sniffles. Nick kind of wants nothing more than to hold him. “Paps,” Harry finally admits. “I got mobbed when I was coming out of the club tonight and I know I should be used to it, but I didn’t have anyone with me and I was just so… _scared_ ,”

“Sweetheart,” Nick coos, and he doesn’t know why all these endearments are suddenly slipping out of his mouth but he’s too worried to care. “Oh, love.”

Harry’s breath is ragged and too fast on the other end of the line, and Nick closes his eyes, lowers his tone, imagining that he’s running his hands up and down the length of Harry’s spine. 

“Take a deep breath for me, Harry,” he orders gently, waiting until he hears long exhale. “Good, babe. They didn’t hurt you at all? Are you physically ok?”

“Yeah, they just pushed me a bit but I’m not hurt or anything. Just thought for sec that I wasn’t going to make it to the car,” Harry chokes out and sometimes Nick teases Harry about how easily he cries but right now it’s just tearing him apart.

“You’re home safe now, darling,” Nick soothes. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, alright? Make yourself a cuppa of that vanilla-mint tea and cuddle up under the covers. I’ll tell you about what I did today.”

Harry sniffles heartily again. “Okay,” he breathes. “Tell me about it.”

Nick launches into a long-winded description of how his show that morning went, the late lunch he and Aimee had and how some teenage girl had stalked him for five blocks in attempt to get him to give her Harry’s number, while the sounds of Harry boiling water and puttering around kitchen filter through the other end of the line. Nick’s never had a problem talking and he’s lulled Harry to sleep more than once with it, so he lets his words run together and keeps the same steady tone, listening to Harry sip his tea and hum occasionally, sniffling subsiding.

Nick talks and talks, letting his voice get lower and softer until eventually he can hear Harry snoring lightly on the other end of the line. He waits a bit before hanging up, listening to Harry sleep and feeling some unfamiliar emotion bloom in the center of his chest. “Goodnight popstar,” he finally whispers, ending the call.

And if he calls Paul the next day to discuss Harry’s security detail in LA that’s inconsequential.

 

+++

 

3.

Harry’s spectacularly drunk. Nick’s not exactly sober himself, but Harry takes the cake, bouncing around in the center of the dancefloor at whatever posh club they’re at with a gin and tonic raised above his head and various standers-by looking at him with a mix of apprehension and humor. Nick was never much for dancing so he’s quite pleased with his spot at the bar, and it means easier access to alcohol, which is what it’s all about anyway.

“He’s a laugh, yeah?” Nick snaps his eyes away from Harry and turns to Zayn, who’s grinning lopsidedly at him. Harry’d managed to drag him out for drinks, even apparently Zayn wasn’t completely immune to his charm.

“He’s a spectacle,” Nick amends, and Zayn chuckles, sipping his drink while still looking at Nick like he’s thinking about something.

“What, Malik?” Nick finally demands, as Zayn continues to gaze his way.

“Nothing,” Zayn shrugs. “Just, you’re acting different.”

“Well it’s not like you’ve come out of your hermitage to go clubbing with us that often have you?” Nick rolls his eyes.

“Nah, I can tell,” Zayn shakes his head. “But I’m off, mate. Get Harry home in one piece yeah?”

Nick doesn’t respond, as he’s not Harry Style’s bloody keeper, but gives Zayn a friendly clap on the back before he slips out between the masses.

Nick sips his cocktail idly, eyes roaming across the room. A few months ago he’d be looking for the fit bloke he wanted to pull for the night, but now he’s just looking for Harry. He lets the vodka blur his thoughts so that he doesn’t have to focus too hard on that.

Harry’s dancing, well, grinding really, with some six foot four bodybuilding type, whose arms are actually more than twice the circumference of Harry’s. Jesus, Nick had thought people like that never left the gym long enough to interact with the public. Did anyone actually find that attractive?

Nick finishes his drink and orders another one while keeping his eyes on Harry. If he were the jealous type he would be mortally uncomfortable with Harry grinding his ass into some hamhock’s half-hard dick. But Nick isn’t. So he doesn’t care. At all.

Nick’s two-thirds of the way done with his drink when he starts to notice the way Harry’s gone a bit limp against David Hasselhoff’s twin, his previously vigorous dancing now more of a disjointed sway. Nick’s clubbed with Harry loads of times and thus learned that Harry Styles is not ready to leave until Harry Styles decides to leave. But the bodybuilder is pressing tighter against Harry the stiller he goes, and Nick can just make out his hands drifting downward, slipping under Harry’s button down.

Nick’s on his feet before he decides to be, alcohol hazy thoughts bouncing around half-formed in his head but his legs carrying him purposefully to the center of the floor. The guy’s bulging muscles are even larger up close but Harry’s even drunker up close so Nick decides that takes precedence.

“Niiiick,” Harry slurs out when he spots him, reaching his gangly arms out floppily. “My boyfrieeend,” he turns to inform Hasselhoff, who still has his fingers digging into Harry’s hips.

“Yes, his boyfriend,” Nick affirms to the guy, ignoring the fact that he hasn’t called himself that since well, ever. He pulls Harry to him, tucking his arm firmly around his waist and Harry nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck.

“Is that so?” the meathead sneers, drawing up to his full height, which has significant effect.

Nick gets his first glimpse of how much shit he might actually be in, but then he just makes out Harry slurring “I don’t feel well,” into his ear in a sad voice over the noise of the club and Nick instinctively pulls him in tighter against his side.

“Yes, and we’re leaving,” Nick assures Hassel-douche, and tugs Harry off the dance floor without a second glance backward.

“Let’s get you home, alright popstar?” Nick says once they’re away from the throng. He pushes Harry’s sweaty curls out of his eyes and because it’s too hard not to, kisses him on the forehead. Harry nods, eyes shining green even in the dark of the club, and wraps his arms around Nick’s middle.

“Thanks for saving me,” Harry mumbles into Nick’s t-shirt, and Nick lets his palm rest on the small of Harry’s back.

“Anytime babe,” Nick chuckles and pulls out his phone to call them a car.

 

+++

 

4.

“Hiya,” chirps a voice from behind Nick and he nearly spills scalding tea all over himself.

“Christ, Styles, can’t you knock?” Nick moans, setting down his mug and pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Then what’s the key for?” Harry pouts and Nick sighs long-sufferingly. He opens his eyes to Harry standing in the kitchen with a suit bag slung over his shoulder and a cheeky grin fixed on his face. “Hi.”

“I can’t stand you,” Nick grumbles, but walks over and pulls Harry in for a kiss, long and slow, taking his time reacquainting himself with the taste of Harry’s cherry chapstick. “Alright?” he murmurs when they pull apart, drawing a thumb softly down the length of Harry’s jaw.

“Alright,” Harry smiles, tapping the tip of Nick’s nose. “You’re not even close to being ready.”

“Well I thought that was what you were here for. You’re Louis’ best mate after all, you tell me what to wear to his birthday party.”

“Definitely not boxers and an unwashed t-shirt,” Harry dimples, and Nick swats his bum in retaliation.

Harry jumps and laughs, but what Nick doesn’t expect is for him to suddenly pale and the smile to drop off his face. Harry jerks a hand up to his back and Nick quickly steps toward him, cupping his face.

“Love?” he asks, as Harry squints his eyes shut briefly and smiles thinly.

“I’m fine. Just my back.”

“How long has it been hurting?”

“Just since the concert on Monday. I’ll be alright, you know how it is. I’m practically an old man, like you.”

Nick can feel himself frowning, but Harry turns away and lopes off toward the stairs to Nick’s bedroom. “If you don’t come up here I’m going to pick out your outfit myself,” Harry warns, and Nick drains the rest of his tea with a sigh. What has his life become.

When he reaches the bedroom, Harry’s leaning heavily on the dresser, supporting himself with one hand, while the other is curled into a fist at the base of his spine. He’s breathing raggedly and there’s almost no color left in his face, eyes shut tightly. He’s curled inwards a little, like he’s trying to contain the pain, and he looks so much smaller and fragile than usual that Nick’s heart drops somewhere south of the floor.

“Harry,” he starts, softly, but Harry just shakes his head with his eyes still closed.

“‘m fine. Just bent down the wrong way. Gimme a sec”

“Look at me, babe,” Nick tilts Harry’s face up with a finger, locking his eyes with Harry’s, whose are bright and a little wet. “You’re not fine.”

Harry looks away, and Nick doesn’t like the guilt he sees written on Harry’s face. “I’ve got to go to the party,” he whispers.

Nick straightens Harry up carefully and guides him to the bed with a hand on his hip. Harry sits down stiffly on the edge, color still all sorts of wrong, and drags a hand through his already messy hair. “I’ve got to go,” he repeats, looking up at Nick but the words come out as more of a question than a statement.

“Hush,” Nick murmurs, and kneels down, gently tugging Harry’s boots off. “Lay down.”

Harry doesn’t move, but looks down at Nick with big, sad eyes, and drops his head into his hands. “’m being selfish. It’s Louis’ birthday,” Harry mumbles into his palms.

Nick sighs and settles down onto the bed, propping himself up against the headboard and opening his arms wide. “C’mere,” he orders, and Harry finally obliges, crawling over to curl himself up into Nick’s arms, head resting heavily on his chest.

He starts smoothing a hand over Harry’s back, pressing a little on the aching muscles but not enough to hurt. He can feeling the tiredness radiating out of Harry, the way his body’s all but completely run down from a full month of promo and tour.

“Love,” Nick murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of Harry’s head, lingering. “I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to let _me_ take care of you.”

Harry presses himself further up against Nick. “Just want everyone to be happy,” he admits into Nick’s jumper, and Nick lets out a little tender noise of dismay that he’d never let anyone else hear in a million years, kissing the top of Harry’s head again.

“Darling, what everyone needs is for you to be healthy and able to move, for one. I’m texting Louis if you don’t, and you know how well that will go.”

Harry laughs at that and unburies his face to look up at Nick. Nick kisses the sides of his cheeks, right where his dimples are, and then the tip of his nose. “Will you rub my back?” Harry asks quietly, and it’s moments like these when Nick’s reminded of just how young he really is.

“Of course sweetheart,” Nick soothes, brushing Harry’s fringe to the side. “You rest here and text Louis, I’m going to go run you a nice hot bath and I’ll give you a massage. The water’ll help your muscles relax.”

Harry rests his forehead against Nick’s. “Why’re you so good to me?”

“Not even doing half of what you deserve, love. Rest, now.” Nick kisses Harry lightly, fluffing up some pillows behind him so that he’s comfortable, and climbs off the bed.

Two hours later they’re back in bed, Harry tucked into Nick’s arms and damp curls splaying out over his chest. Harry’s warm and smells like his favorite green tea shampoo that Nick had washed his hair with, and his body is finally relaxed again. He snuffles a little into Nick’s bare chest and Nick thinks maybe Harry’s drooling on him a bit, but he can’t think of anything that feels more right.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I would apologize for writing ridiculous, tooth rotting fluff, but I love it so why be sorry? This is also my first gryles fic ever so please be nice if you don't like the characterization 
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr! :) xx [blushinghaz](http://www.blushinghaz.tumblr.com)
> 
> Kudos and comments mean the world to me <3


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